


Oh, What a Night!

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-24
Updated: 2002-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Jitters.  Lex gets an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, What a Night!

**Author's Note:**

> I've written fan fiction before, but very little for Smallville and this is my first attempt at writing Clark and Lex or any slash pairing. After "Jitters," Lex crawled into my head and wouldn't go away. He needed someone to care for him so badly after all that! Anyway, feedback or constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated, but this is a pretty intimidating fandom to write for so please be honest, but gentle with me.  <g>

## Oh, What a Night!

by Debi

[]()

* * *

Title: Oh, What a Night!  
Author: Debi  
Email: IanFan9@aol.com 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I'm only borrowing them to get this idea out of my head. 

Author's 

Author's Notes II: Thank you to everyone who beta read this story for me or just listened to me cry while I tried to finish it. I was trying to finish this story during 2 weeks of almost non-stop headaches. At this point, I'm posting it just to have it done, so I can stop obsessing over it. I've never been this worked up about posting a fic. Any remaining mistakes are mine, but I reserve the right to change them later. 

* * *

I had finally managed to get comfortable and doze off when the knocking started. Damn. For a moment I contemplated ignoring it. I hoped my visitor would assume I wasn't at home and leave quickly. Despite their protests, I had sent the entire staff home earlier and there was no one left to answer the door for me. No one to tell the unwelcome guest that I was busy and to call for an appointment. I was content on the couch, settled in with an ice pack, a snifter of brandy and a bottle of painkillers. Getting up to answer the door was going to take a lot of effort on my part; effort I wasn't willing to make. 

I tried to ignore it, but the annoying sound was shattering the fragile, quiet calm it had taken me hours to achieve. Getting up was painful and I decided that who ever was on the other side of that door was going to regret being there. An angry Lex Luthor was never a pretty sight. An angry Lex Luthor after a day like I had today was lethal. 

The room shifted and spun as I walked and I kept the ice pack pressed to the back of my neck. The sharp, throbbing pain in my head had yet to go away and the icy coldness felt oddly reassuring. So maybe the doctor who examined me at the plant was right. Maybe I should be in a hospital. Only Luthor's don't do hospitals. I had said in no uncertain terms that I was not going to spend the night in a hospital bed. Eventually, he let me leave with a ride home, the painkillers and a promise that I would not be alone tonight. Apparently, Earl was kind enough to leave me with a concussion in addition to the bruises, muscle pulls and cracked ribs and the good doctor felt I shouldn't be by myself. Naturally, the first thing I did when I got here was to send the staff home. I was ready to fire anyone who even thought about arguing with me. 

I was in a seriously foul mood and any more phony concern for my wellbeing was liable to end with me cooling my heels in the local jail. In the past eight hours I'd had my plant taken over and almost blown up by a gun-wielding lunatic. I'd almost been killed - AGAIN. I'd almost gotten Clark killed - AGAIN. I'd been lied to, pistol whipped, thrown around like a rag doll and nearly ended up as a big red splat on the cold concrete floor of Level 3 - a place that wasn't supposed to exist. I'd had to deal with angry parents, the local police, SWAT, the EPA and the evil of all evils, my father. I felt I was entitled to be a little grumpy. 

Not to mention entitled to my privacy. Who ever was at my door needed to have a damn good reason. 

I finally made it to the door, leaned heavily on the doorframe for support, and pulled it open with an audible grunt. SURPRISE! You'd think that after everything that had happened today, nothing at all would have surprised me, however, what was waiting for me on the other side of that door was so much of a surprise that I dropped the ice pack, stood up straight too quickly, and almost passed out from the sudden movement. Ironically, I seemed to surprise my visitor, as well. 

Strength and quick reflexes must run in their family. Strong arms reached out to steady me before I could hit the floor and I was suddenly closer than I could have ever imagined being to Jonathan Kent. Yep, Jonathan Kent was at my door, holding me up and looking at me with a level of concern I'd never seen from anyone in my adult life and certainly never expected to see from him. 

"Lex? Are you all right?" 

Normally a thousand sarcastic remarks would have come to mind in a millisecond, but the day had left me drained and all I could do was manage a quiet mumble about moving too quickly being a bad thing. 

"Let's get you inside, Lex." 

He picked up my ice pack, closed the door behind us and helped me back to the study. 

Once I was safely back on the couch, he looked around the room and at me, sizing up the situation. My curiosity won out. Instead of waiting for him to tell me why he was here, I cut right to it and asked him. 

"I came by to thank you for what you did today at the plant." 

Oh? Apparently, the surprises weren't over for the night, yet. Jonathan Kent had come to my house to THANK ME? 

"I was doing my job. It's my plant and I am ultimately responsible for everything that happens within it." 

"That may be true, but we both know that what happened today was your father's fault. He didn't have the guts to accept that responsibility and do something about the situation, but you did." 

It was a good thing I was sitting at this point. 

"You saved a lot of lives today, Lex. Lives your father was willing to toss away. Including his own son's." 

I really didn't want to be reminded of that. I'd never had any doubt that my father didn't care if I lived or died, as long as I didn't embarrass him in the process of either, but having him seal the fire doors around me was hard proof I didn't need. 

"Where is your father anyway?" 

"Metropolis. He left as soon as the press and the police cleared out." 

"He left you alone?" Nothing short of disgust in his tone. I watched as my father sank lower in Kent polls. 

"He left and I sent the staff home." 

"Lex, you're hurt. You shouldn't be alone." 

"I'm fine, really." Okay, so we both knew I was lying through my teeth. 

"You're not fine. Let me take a look at that." He went around the couch, pulled the ice pack away from my neck and made these worried little noises. 

"The swelling looks pretty bad. What did the doctor say?" 

I couldn't help but wonder where all this was going. My first instinct was to lie and hope he left right away, but some part of me was actually happy he was there and overrode the instinct born out of years of people caring more about my last name than me. Honesty seemed to be the best course with the Kents, so I told him. "I have a concussion. A lot of bruises and pulled muscles, and a couple of cracked ribs from what happened on the catwalk. I'll be fine though. How is Clark?" 

I'd wanted to call him all night. If for no other reason than to make absolutely certain he was okay. We got separated once we were out of the plant and I never got the chance to talk to him privately. As we helped Earl out of the building, I yelled at him for coming back. I went in there to get him out and he came back in. He put his life in jeopardy to save mine again and I was furious. Most of that anger was really fear. Fear for his safety and fear for his health since, at the time, Clark looked awful. He said he was fine, but on the catwalk and in the corridor, Clark looked anything but fine. He looked more like he was going to throw up or keel over at any second. How he managed to pull us up is beyond me. But that's an unsolved mystery for another day, because my brain was just too tired to think about it. It would, however, have felt better knowing that Clark was safe and unharmed. 

"He's fine. He actually wanted to come over here and check up on you, but I asked him to stay and help Martha. And I...I wanted to be the one to come over." 

Oh? 

"Why is that?" 

"To thank you personally, to check up on you, to tell you that you did a very good thing today...and since Clark was certain you'd be sitting here alone...to bring you back home with me." 

WHAT? Now I was sure I'd suffered some form of brain damage. I could not possibly have heard that correctly. 

"Excuse me?" 

"We would like you to come stay with us tonight, Lex. You shouldn't be alone and Clark is worried about you. If you come stay at the farm, we can keep an eye on you and Clark can stop worrying. Besides, Martha deals with stress by cooking. She's been in the kitchen for over an hour now. We need an extra person to finish it all." The good-natured laugh he finished with sounded strange bouncing off the cold stone walls. 

I really didn't know what to say to him. Part of me was dying to see Clark with my own eyes and talk to him about everything. But a bigger part of me was exhausted and I wasn't sure if I could keep from being anything but my true self right now. The real me wasn't something the Kent's had seen. I didn't want them to see it either. 

He was looking at me. Waiting for an answer. 'Say no, Lex, say no!' My inner voice of reason repeated over and over. 

"Let me get some things together." Where did THAT come from? So much for listening to my inner voice of reason. My father was right. I was too emotional. And at that moment I was an emotional train wreck. It was going to take days for me to sort out and process everything that had happened today. 

It was too late to back out without sounding ungrateful, so I stood, mentally bracing myself for the long walk upstairs. He offered to help me, but things had become so surreal that I said no just to have a few moments alone to compose myself. I managed to get to my room and found my bag. Clothes and toiletries - I couldn't believe I was packing for an overnight stay at the Kent farm. Will wonders never cease? 

Eventually, I made it back downstairs and found Jonathan with the bottle of painkillers in his hand. He looked at the snifter of brandy and then scowled at me. 

"You really shouldn't mix these two." 

"I know." I shrugged. I wasn't going to tell him I've mixed far worse and lived to tell about it. He either knew this already or didn't want to know, as he just nodded and gestured for us to leave. 

The ride was quiet. Not uncomfortable, just quiet. I suspected he had plenty of questions, but was being polite enough to wait and ask them later. Unlike my father, who had been hounding me with questions even while I was with the doctor. He did ask if Luthor Corp was going to honor the offer to get medical care for Earl. I glanced at my watch. Earl should have been at Metropolis General already. I'd spoken to the Chief of Staff earlier about his condition and obtained permission for Dr. Hamilton to be included in his treatment and care. Hamilton knew more about the meteor rocks than anyone, so the combination of their medical expertise and his meteor research would work very well, both for Earl and for myself. The Sullivan kid had a point about those meteors doing strange things to people, and I wanted to know exactly what those strange things might be. 

He was still waiting for my answer about Earl. I assured him that I was taking care of everything. He sent me a knowing glance, obviously noticing that I said 'I' and not 'we.' My father was furious that I put him on the spot like that. He told me that if one bad word leaked out to the press about Earl's condition Smallville would look like paradise compared to where he would send me off to next. 

I'd known since the accident that Jonathan disliked my father. What I hadn't known until today was that they knew each other. Their reactions to one another earlier told me that I was very wrong. They knew each other all right, rather well, too. I needed to find out how and why, but that was another one of those mysteries for another day. 

We arrived at the Kent farm and Clark was out the door before the truck even stopped. He came around to my side of the truck and opened the door with an amazing balance of exuberance and caution. Apparently he was very happy to see me, but equally worried about my current state. 

"Lex! I'm glad you came. Let me help you." I despised looking weak, but who could resist Clark Kent's charm? I had trouble restraining myself around him when in top form. Right now, I was no match for those big, beautiful eyes and before I could protest, he had my duffle bag in one hand and my arm in the other. He gently led me into the house like a Boy Scout helping an old woman across the street. A part of my brain howled with hysterical laughter at how we must have looked. Oh, how I wished Daddy Dearest had been there to see it. He'd have popped a blood vessel or two for sure. 

As soon as I came through the door, Martha Kent pulled me into a hug, asking me if I was okay. Surreal had just become an understatement. No one had hugged me like that since my mother died and there hadn't been this many people genuinely concerned about my health in as long as I could remember. I must have looked as awful as I felt, because as she pulled away, her eyes went wide with concern. 

"Clark, put Lex's things upstairs. Lex come sit down. Are you hungry? We normally don't eat this late, but with all that's happened tonight, we were just about to..." 

She was still talking, but my mind had gone on overload and nothing else she said registered. Clark came back down and Martha asked him to set the table. Jonathan was helping her at the stove. The whole kitchen was warm, cozy and comfortable - like some Norman Rockwell painting come alive. I'd never seen anything like this in my life and I had no idea how to act. Walking into the Control Room to talk to Earl was easier than this. That was strategy, war, finding his weakness and exploiting it - all things I've been perfecting for years. This? This was something foreign, completely alien to me. This was love and comfort and caring. 

Clark kept smiling at me as he moved around the kitchen and I took a moment to just focus on him. He was wearing his usual jeans and work boots. The red button down he had on earlier was gone, wearing just a white T-shirt tucked into his loose jeans. The T-shirt clung to his well-defined muscles in all the right places, and by tucking it in and not covering it up with another shirt, his slim waist and long legs were emphasized. I had to force myself not to stare. Clark was usually covered in layers, layers that suggested there was something nice underneath, without actually showing any of it. Making it easier to forget about. A brief flashback to Riley Field and I remembered exactly what was underneath. Now I had to force myself not to drool. Nell's niece was obviously a complete idiot if she kept refusing to see what a better deal Clark was than the quarterback. 

"Lex?" Martha Kent's voice pulled me guiltily back from my daydreams. I doubted the Kent's had invited me over here so I could drool over their teenage son. With conscious effort, I pushed the wicked little images back into a corner of my brain. 

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kent. What were you saying?" 

"It's Martha and I just asked if you were hungry. Dinner's ready." Eating hadn't occurred to me all day, but as soon as she started setting plates on the table, the wonderful smell hit me and I was suddenly starving. 

"Actually, I am. I was too busy to eat earlier." 

Everyone else came to the table. Clark was last, and before he sat down, he put his hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear. 

"Mom's the best cook in the county, you're going to love this," and then louder so his parents could hear, "dig in." Martha Kent could have just served me bread and water and I'd think it was gourmet cuisine if it meant Clark would whisper in my ear again. 

Dinner was like something out of a TV movie. Everyone at the table, eating, talking, laughing...just being together. Being a part of each other's lives. It was mind-boggling and nothing like dinner at the Luthor home. Even when my mother was alive and we ate together, there were still servants around to do the cooking and cleaning and my father would have had a fit if he ever caught us eating in the kitchen. No, Luthors do not do kitchens. Kitchens were for cooking and servants. Luthors took their meals in the dining room. Which is probably why I had never even set foot in the formal dining room at the castle. At home, I usually ate alone and wherever the mood struck me - study, bedroom, office - anywhere BUT the dining room. One of these days I wanted to have sex on that table, just for the fun of imagining my father's reaction, but I never planned on eating there. 

The conversation at the dinner table was kept light, I assumed for my sake. Again, I imagined that there were a lot of questions to be asked, but they weren't asking until after we'd had a chance to finish eating. After dinner, my offer to help with the cleanup was mercifully refused and I was sent to the living room to rest on the couch with a fresh ice pack. Less than 15 minutes later, all three Kents joined me and I decided it was as good a time as any to get the questions out of the way. 

"I'm sorry my father lied to you. Honestly, I had no idea Level 3 existed until Earl dragged me there." That's it, Lex, just jump right in and get the hard questions out of the way first. 

"Lex, it's not your fault that he lied." Martha reassured me. 

"You have no control over him." Jonathan added. "I'm just glad that no one was killed. Things could have been so much worse." 

I nodded in agreement. All things considered, we were very lucky. Whitney and I were the only two to suffer any sort of injury, and we should both be back to normal in a few weeks. The plant would be operating as normal in a few days. I was keeping it closed to allow my own team of investigators to go over the entire property. I wanted to know if my father was hiding anything else, and I wanted to know as much as I could about Level 3 and what had been done there. I also wanted to know what stopped that methane leak. I had my suspicions, and that was why all of the security tapes from the plant were locked in my personal safe at home. I had planned to go over them frame by frame when my head stopped throbbing. 

The Kents asked me more about Level 3, but I couldn't give them any answers to their questions. I simply didn't know. They wanted to know more about what was going to happen to Earl and I answered them as best I could. The Metropolis police would hold off until he was out of the hospital, but it was too soon to tell what other charges he would be facing. Somewhere in the recess of my mind, I was thinking that I should be uncomfortable here, but I wasn't. For once, Jonathan Kent was not judging me. He was asking me questions and I was doing my best to answer them honestly. I couldn't remember the last time I had a real conversation like this with anyone but Clark. I wasn't entirely sure what happened between my father and the Kents while I was inside the plant, but something did. Something that had finally allowed Jonathan to see my father and I as two separate people, instead of Dr. Evil and Mini Me. 

A yawn escaped before I could stop it. Even though I would probably never be this comfortable in the Kent home again, I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep. For about a month. Martha caught my exhaustion immediately. 

"Clark, why don't you take Lex upstairs and get him settled in? He needs to get some rest." 

"Okay, Mom." Clark stood and waited for me to get up with a close eye. If I faltered at all, I knew he'd be there to help in a heartbeat. But I managed to get up without falling and followed him up the stairs. As we passed his room, the door was closed and I couldn't help but wonder what his room looked like. What was in there to make it Clark's unique space? Maybe tomorrow I could get in there somehow and look around. Unravel a little bit more of the mystery that was Clark Kent. 

He opened the door next to his and led me in. My bag was already on the cedar chest at the foot of the four-poster quilt covered bed. The room looked like something off of the cover of a country living magazine, all honey oak, warm colors and fluffy pillows. It was nothing at all like the cold, impersonal stone of the castle. Clark started to turn the quilts back on the bed and pointed out where the bathroom was. I excused myself for a moment and headed for the door he mentioned. 

It was obvious that this was Clark's bathroom. There was only one toothbrush in the holder, next to several bottles of aftershave on the counter. I made note of the brands for later reference and then dared to look at myself in the mirror. I looked like hell. The dark circles under my eyes and angry reddish purple marks along my neck were shockingly bright against my pale skin. It was almost garish, like bad stage makeup. Only this wasn't a play and I couldn't wash it off. Sighing, I decided the best thing I could do was get ready for bed and deal with it all tomorrow. I used the bathroom and washed up before heading back to the guest room. Sleep was fast becoming the only word in my vocabulary. 

Clark was anxiously waiting for me. 

"What's wrong, Clark?" 

"Are you sure you're ok? You don't look ok." His cheeks turned pink with embarrassment for reasons I couldn't imagine. 

"I'm fine, Clark. Really. A little worse for wear, but nothing that won't heal." Putting off getting undressed and into bed, I sat down on the cedar chest. Clark obviously had something on his mind that he wanted to talk about. 

"Why did you come in? Why didn't you stay out there and let the police handle it?" 

"It's my plant. I'm responsible for it and the people in it." 

"Maybe, but getting yourself killed wouldn't have solved anything. Why the hell did you take off your vest? Earl had a GUN." The tone of his voice changed and I could tell that we were getting to what was really bothering him. Clark was worried about me, which struck me as funny, since the main reason I went into the plant was because Clark was in there. I couldn't sit outside and do nothing knowing he was inside with a seizure-prone, armed gunman. After watching Clark try to calm Earl, not once-but twice, I was afraid his good intentions were going to get him killed. 

"He wouldn't have trusted me if I hadn't taken off the vest." 

"He could have shot you right there, Lex!" 

"But he didn't." 

"No, instead he...." 

I cut him off. I really wanted to have a long conversation with Clark about everything that had happened, but not right now. 

"Clark, please. Let's just get some sleep and talk about everything tomorrow. And believe me, we will. I have questions of my own." 

Something I would call fear or panic flashed across his face before he ducked his head. "You're right. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." 

We both stood up and he turned to leave, but then suddenly stopped. Strong arms were around me before I could even register that he had moved. For a split second, I tried to resist Clark's sudden embrace, but he was big, strong and reassuring. He was beautiful, caring and sweet. And he was there for me, like no else had ever been. I fell into the hug for a few precious moments. 

He was blushing again when he stepped away and said goodnight. I peeled off my clothes with a mental note to burn them when I get back home, pulled on pajama pants and crawled into the bed. I was sound asleep within seconds. 

Sunlight streamed through the windows and jabbed at my eyelids like little punches, forcing them to open. The first thing that registered was the pain. Pain behind my eyes, pain down my neck and pain in my ribs. Pain all over. The day after was always worse. 

The second thing that registered was that I was not alone in the bed. Very carefully, I turned my head and realized that I was half leaning against Clark's chest, his arm wrapped snugly around my waist. I was being held not unlike a child holds a teddy bear. WHAT THE FUCK? 

My mind reeled trying to figure out how Clark came to be in bed with me, but I couldn't remember anything after I crawled under the quilt. I couldn't help but stare at him either. If I thought he was wildly beautiful when he was wake, the sight that was before me now was even more breathtaking. His long, lean body covered the length of the bed. He was wearing black sweat pants and the white T-shirt, which had hitched its way up during sleep, showing off a few precious inches of Clark's amazing abs. Features softened by sleep, his lips were full and looked unbelievably soft in contrast to the dark stubble across his upper lip and chin. I was both amazed and jealous that someone his age had that kind of a beard in the morning. Those impossibly long eyelashes of his were beautifully fanned out in sharp contrast to his tawny skin and dark curls of hair spilled across his forehead. I'd learned to live with being bald, but I would sell what was left of my soul to Lucifer himself to have Clark's hair. I couldn't resist the urge to touch it. Shifting carefully, I reached out for those dark, thick tresses. Just as I thought, it was like fine silk. What I wouldn't give to bury my fingers in it and never let go. 

I wanted to see more of Clark, but I was afraid that shifting again to get a better view would only wake him up. The warm comfort of his body was just too wonderful to give up yet. I would never get another chance to be this physically close to Clark when he was awake, so I planned to savor every moment. 

Clark mumbled in his sleep and his arm tightened around my waist. I'd never made a habit of cuddling in bed, and I couldn't currently find a rational reason for that. Then again, I'd never been in bed with Clark before. Since I really didn't want him to wake up and find me with an erection, I decided now was as good a time as any to think about the conversation I intended to have with him. Clark was hiding something and I wanted to know what. I also wanted to know how he pulled both Earl and me up onto that catwalk. People have lied to my face for as long as I could remember. I'd come to expect it from most people, but Clark was different. I didn't want to lie to him and I refused to admit just how much it bothered me that he was lying to me. I knew I hit him on the bridge, just as I knew there was no rational way he could have pulled up more than 300 pounds with one hand looking as sick as he did. And why he was so worried about me? 

Clark winced in his sleep and then jerked up, taking me with him. His eyes darted around the room for a moment, before settling on me. He made an obvious effort to slow his breathing while I made an effort to not wince from the sharp pain the sudden movement caused. 

"Lex." 

"Clark." 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that." 

"I'll recover, but I wouldn't mind knowing how you ended up sleeping with me." 

Clark's eyes went wide. "You don't remember?" 

"No. What happened?" 

"You were having a nightmare and you called out to me." 

"A nightmare?" I haven't had a nightmare in years. 

"Yeah, I think you were dreaming about what happened at the plant. You called my name. I came in and you were thrashing all over the bed. I held your shoulders down to calm you and then you asked me to stay with you." 

Blushing furiously, his voice trailed off and I could barely hear him. "I'm not sure how we ended up so close though." 

Part of my brain was laughing, while the other part was panicking. My subconscious had the nerve to ask for something I didn't dare, but what else did I say or do? 

"What happened after I asked you to stay?" I was really afraid to hear the answer, but I needed to know. 

"Not much really. You talked in your sleep for a little bit. I think you were still dreaming about the Level 3 stuff, but you settled down after I came in and eventually fell back asleep." 

Thank God! Of all the things that COULD have happened, that was mild. It was still embarrassing, but it could have been so much worse considering some of the other dreams I'd had about Clark. 

"I fell asleep not long after that." 

I breathed a silent sigh of relief, before being hit with another round of panic. "Wait a minute. What about your parents?" I couldn't imagine that Jonathan Kent went along with his son being in bed with me willingly. I couldn't see that happening and where was Jonathan anyway? Loading his shotgun, perhaps? 

"I don't think they heard you. They were pretty tired last night after everything and Dad said they were going to sleep in this morning. They're probably still in bed." 

"What time is it anyway?" 

Clark glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Only 6:00." 

"Oh." 

"Why don't I go take a quick shower and then make breakfast while you get cleaned up?" 

Clark could cook? 

"Sounds like a plan." 

I relaxed against the pillows and watched Clark leave the room. Barefoot and sleep tousled, he was about the most gorgeous thing I'd ever laid eyes on. I heard doors open and close and then water running. My mind wandered into all sorts of dangerous territory at the thought of Clark in the shower. Naked Clark. Naked, WET Clark. Naked, wet, SOAPY Clark. HELPING Clark get naked, wet and soapy - now there was a fantasy worth taking a hit to the head. I heard the water turn off and curiosity got the better of me. I had to see what he looked like when he came out of the bathroom. I have always been a glutton for punishment. I took my bag, stood in the hallway and waited. I should have remembered that curiosity also killed the cat. 

Clark came out and I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep my face neutral. Clark was wearing only a white towel wrapped tightly around his waist. Water droplets clung to his glorious chest and abs, his wet hair was a mass of untamed curls, and those long, beautiful legs made a bath-sized towel look blessedly small. I was forced to amend my earlier opinion. THIS was the most gorgeous thing I had ever laid eyes on. Every ounce of will power I possessed went into sounding casual when I asked him if he was finished. He nodded and went into his bedroom. As soon as I was in the bathroom, I turned the cold water on full blast. 

As I was getting dressed I could smell coffee and bacon. My stomach rumbled in delight. Fruit and juice were my normal breakfast, but this smelled too good to pass up. I zipped my bag closed and looked in the mirror before going down to the kitchen. If it were possible, I looked worse than I did yesterday. 

In the kitchen, Clark was busy cracking eggs into a skillet. He didn't see me at first and I took a moment to observe. It was obvious that he'd done this before. 

"I didn't know you could cook." 

"Oh hey. I didn't hear you come down. Have a seat, breakfast is almost ready." He made two plates and set one down in front of me. It looked and smelled terrific. Another surprising detail to add to the Clark Kent folder. 

"Please don't take this the wrong way, because I appreciate everything your family has done, but how on earth did you convince your parents to let me stay here last night?" 

"Actually, I didn't. I guess some things happened with your Dad at the plant that they weren't too happy about and when I said I was pretty sure you'd be sitting in that big house all alone last night, they decided that you should stay here." 

"How did my alone state even come up?" 

"Dad said he wanted to go over and thank you for what you did, but he didn't want to go while your Dad was still there. I told him you were probably alone. He thought about that for a minute and then left." 

We finished eating in comfortable silence, each going over the night's events in our own way. While Clark cleared the dishes, I decided that if I was going to ask him about last night, I should do it soon, before his parents woke up. I had a feeling I would get a more honest answer if it were just the two of us. 

"Clark." 

"Yeah?" He turned to look at me, dishtowel still in hand. 

"Last night, on the catwalk..." I didn't get any farther before his expression changed completely and he tossed the towel on the counter. 

"Let's go somewhere else." He walked out the kitchen door and I followed him. He went into the barn and up the stairs to a loft. There was a desk, radio, telescope and numerous other items that told me Clark spent a lot of his time up here. Clark sat on a bench next to the wall and motioned for me to sit in the chair by the desk. Instead, I sat next to him on the bench. 

Clark looked uncomfortable. He hadn't even looked this uncomfortable when he woke up in bed next to me. 

"How did you do it, Clark?" 

"I told you, Lex. It was just an adrenaline rush." He wouldn't meet my eyes this time. I knew he was lying, and that hurt more than Earl's blow. 

"Clark." I was frustrated, getting angry and I knew it showed in my voice. "I know you're lying to me and I hate it. There is something going on here that you're not telling me. I've seen you twice now do things that defy all logic. I've seen you do them and yet you lie to me. You look me right in the eye and LIE." Damn, what was it about Clark that made me sound so emotional? I was normally in complete control of my emotions. 

Clark buried his head in his hands. "Lex, please." His voice was full of anguish and hurt, frustration and fear. "I can't." 

"Can't what, Clark?" 

"I can't talk to you about this." I was getting angrier, and I was sure he could tell. 

"Why not, Clark? You peel the roof of my car back like it's nothing and then you pull up two grown men with one hand while obviously sick. Don't lie to me again and say it was adrenaline. I can't handle you calling me your friend and then have you look me in the eye and lie." 

Clark finally looked up, meeting my eyes. I could practically see the tug-of-war going on inside his head. Whatever he was hiding, it was huge. 

Long moments passed in silence before I finally leaned in and spoke with a low, controlled voice. 

"I don't get it, Clark. This morning you seemed perfectly fine waking up in bed HOLDING me, but you can't talk to me about how you managed to save my life twice?" 

Clark's cheeks reddened instantly and I knew I'd hit another nerve. 

"Lex..." His voice came out strangled. "I wish I could talk to you about this, but I can't. I don't even have all the answers for myself, yet. PLEASE just let it go for now." 

Finally, we were getting somewhere. At least he wasn't denying it this time. 

"Clark, you've saved my life twice in a very short period of time. That's twice I thought I was going to die and I didn't. Do you really think I can let that go? HOW did you do it? WHY did you do it?" 

He moved closer to me on the bench, locking his eyes on mine. I watched as he took a deep breath before speaking. "Lex, I'm asking you to stop thinking about it. Please. For me. I was able to help you because I am strong. REALLY strong. In a way that I don't fully understand and that people can't know about. You've seen Chloe's wall. I don't want to end up as another article on the Wall of Weird or worse. I had no idea who you were on the bridge. I was reacting more than thinking. But in the plant, sick or not, I had to try and help you. I couldn't just let you fall. I was AFRAID of losing you." 

My mind was reeling from all he'd just said. "You were afraid of losing me?" I was sure I looked stunned. I felt stunned and I was still too wiped out from yesterday to properly control my emotions. My father would have had my head if he saw me like this. 

"Yes." His cheeks were blazing red again, but he managed to keep looking at me. 

"Is that why you stayed with me last night?" 

"I stayed with you because you called out to me and you asked me to stay. I wanted to be there for you and in a way, I liked that I could hold you and reassure myself that you were there. That you hadn't fallen or been shot. When I woke up my first thought was how nice it felt, but then I was worried what you might think of me." I'd never even dreamt that he might feel the same way about me. I wasn't sure how to react and that was something that never happened to Lex Luthor. 

"I thought it felt nice, too. Very nice." I took his hand in mine and squeezed gently. I needed the reassurance as much as he did. The last twenty-four hours of my life had been unlike any other. Considering my rather adventurous youth, that was really saying something. 

"Can I hold you again?" Clark sounded scared, but determined. He leaned back against the rail and opened his arms, inviting me in. There is no way I could, or even wanted to, resist, so I slid over and leaned against his chest. Strong arms wrapped around me and I relaxed into him. There was so much more we needed to talk about, but right now it didn't feel important. Being held by Clark felt right and I wanted to enjoy that for as long as I could. I knew that sooner or later his parents would come looking for us and I would have to go home. Talking could wait a little longer. 

We sat quietly, enjoying holding and being held until I asked him about the telescope. The conversation turned to more casual subjects, but he kept his arms wrapped around me. It was warm and caring and it allowed me to touch Clark in ways I'd never thought possible. For the first time, I allowed myself to think that my fantasies about Clark might come true after all. 

Eventually, Martha came looking for us, and we pulled apart to meet her at the stairs. She asked me how I was feeling. 

"Sore all over, but getting better." I added a light laugh and a smile, so she wouldn't worry. 

We could hear machinery starting up and Clark realized that was his cue to get to work. Apparently farm work could only be put off for so long. The same would apply to my own responsibilities. I was sure the house staff was wondering where I was, I probably had dozens of voice mail messages and I needed to stop by the plant... Damn, that warm, happy feeling I'd had while wrapped in Clark's arms was quickly fading away, replaced by cold reality. It was time to get back to work, aches and pains or not. 

Clark followed me to the guest room. I gathered my things and called for my car. I was a little surprised when Clark closed the bedroom door. He looked uncertain again, but before I could ask why, he leaned in and placed the tiniest of kisses on my lips. His full, soft lips were barely touching mine, but it felt incredible. There was a connection with Clark that I had never felt before with anyone. When he backed away, I buried my fingers in the back of his thick hair and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. It was intense like no kiss I could recall and I could recall a LOT of kisses. Every nerve in my body was tingling with excitement and want, but this was not the time or the place and when we finally come up for air, I reached for the door. Clark seemed to understand and followed me out of the room. 

On the way out, Martha questioned me, assessing my physical and emotional state. It was sweet and comforting to have someone mothering me after all these years. She hugged me as I left, and invited me to come for dinner tonight. Clark beamed encouragingly at me from behind his mother and I accepted. Like I could refuse his smile. 

Jonathan must have seen us on the porch. I heard an engine shut off and saw him come around the barn, pulling off work gloves. At the same time, Evan turned into the Kent driveway with the Mercedes. 

"Heading home, Lex?" 

"Yes, I need to get back to the plant, but Mrs. Kent has invited me for dinner tonight. Thank you for everything." 

"You're welcome, Lex. See you tonight then." Jonathan Kent shook my hand. The man who would barely acknowledge my existence a few weeks ago willingly shook my hand. Everything from the past twenty-four hours caught up with me all at once, and for a second, I understood how Alice felt after falling through the rabbit hole. I forced myself to walk casually to the car and got in. 

I waved goodbye as we pulled out, noticing Martha's gardens. It was late in the year and most of the beds had been neatly covered over with hay. I vaguely remembered how the garden looked the first time I was here, row after row of brilliant color. Martha must like flowers. I made a mental note to call Nell as soon as I get home. She'd know what kind of flowers Martha would like and could put together an arrangement for me to bring tonight. Jonathan was likely to refuse any sort of thank you gifts, but I doubted he would deny Martha a bouquet of her favorite flowers. 

As Evan drove, I started my mental post-mortem on everything that had happened since yesterday morning. The business part was easy and before we were home I had that game plan in order. Clark, however, was not so easy. I'd never considered that he might have feelings for me in return and I knew a relationship with Clark would be different than any of my past relationships. It would be based on how we felt about each other and not what could be gained by the merger. And there was still the rest of his secret, although that didn't upset me as much as had earlier. I'd learned a lot about Clark. More than I'd expected and yet, not the one thing I had wanted to know. But for once, he hadn't lied about it and maybe that was enough...for now. 


End file.
